


gentler horizons

by SydneyHorses



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Glenn Fraldarius, Nightmares, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23541328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneyHorses/pseuds/SydneyHorses
Summary: Felix has a nightmare. Dimitri comforts him, and they talk about the past.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	gentler horizons

**Author's Note:**

> one time my roommate very casually told me that she'd never had a good dream and i have never stopped thinking about it since, so you have that to thank for this fic!
> 
> i hope you enjoy! there's a lot of content of felix comforting dimitri, but i thought something about dimitri comforting felix would be nice, especially since i cant sleep!

Dimitri isn’t sure what woke him. The bedroom is quiet in the middle of the night, and once his eye adjusts to the darkness, he can pick out the familiar silhouettes of the wardrobe, the folding screen in the corner, the bookshelves and sofa by the fireplace. He sighs, then extends his hand out to the side, reaching for Felix. The spot next to him is empty, and Dimitri’s exhaustion starts to slip away.

A soft hitch of breath tells him everything he needs to know.

“Felix?” Dimitri’s voice is soft, still half-asleep. He sits partially up in bed, the blanket slipping off his shoulders and pooling around his waist. “Are you alright?”

They forgot to draw the curtains or close the windows before bed, and the light from the moon streams in through the windows. It provides little light, but enough for him to see Felix, hunched over at the edge of the bed. His hands are laced behind his neck and his head is bowed. “Go back to bed,” he says. His voice sounds ragged, as if he’s been crying out. He hasn’t, has he? Dimitri is a light sleeper, he would have heard.

Dimitri moves forward, his hands hovering a hair’s breadth away from Felix’s shoulders. “Felix?”

Felix shudders. “Go back to bed,” he says again.

“I can’t sleep,” Dimitri replies, although he is, in fact, still very tired, the last vestiges of sleep still clinging to him. “What’s wrong?”

Felix hunches over a little more on himself. Dimitri can’t see his face, but Felix is shaking. He can feel it, even with his hands not actually touching him. “Just a bad dream,” Felix says, his voice rough. 

Dimitri tries to think about what to do in this situation. He gets nightmares often, and Felix has become adept at comforting him. This is Felix though, and he is not Dimitri. Felix has gotten nightmares in the past, but none have been like this. Normally, Felix’s nightmares resolve by way of Felix curling a little closer to him in the morning, unusually clingy, and Dimitri coaxing the details of the dream out of him over breakfast. 

This is different. This is Felix, holding his arms so tight his fingers are turning white and shaking like a leaf.

“I’m going to touch you,” Dimitri says. His friends ask now before touching him first, even Felix. It had upset him at first, that they felt the need to walk on eggshells around him in this way, but a visiting noble had laid his hand on Dimitri’s arm once during a policy meeting and Dimitri had felt his blood run cold and his mind go blank. After that, he’d been grateful for the space and consideration. “Would that be alright?”

Felix nods, jerkily, and then when Dimitri doesn’t move he clears his throat. “Yes.”

Dimitri brings his hands down to rest on Felix’s shoulders. Felix tenses, but he’d said that Dimitri could touch him, and so Dimitri squeezes Felix’s shoulders gently and then pulls him into his lap. Felix goes willingly, burying his face in Dimitri’s neck.

Dimitri has never thought of Felix as fragile, but he feels it in this instant. He’s still trembling, and although he’s not crying now, Dimitri thinks he might have been earlier. “Felix,” he says softly. “What happened?”

Felix shakes his head, and Dimitri wraps his arms more firmly around Felix. “A nightmare, nothing more.”

“You’re upset,” Dimitri says. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

Felix scoffs, “What would you know? Did you talk about it during the war?”

Dimitri flinches, not expecting the barb to be thrown at him so callously. As soon as the words leave his mouth, Felix lifts his head and kisses Dimitri’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. That was cruel.”

“You’re upset,” Dimitri rationalizes.

“Not an excuse,” Felix says, parroting something Dimitri’s heard Ingrid say to him countless times over the years.

“I suppose not,” Dimitri says, stroking Felix’s back. His father used to do that for him, when Dimitri was small and would get bad dreams in the simple, uncomplicated way that happy children do. “If you truly do not wish to speak of it, we don’t have to.”

Felix shifts in Dimitri’s lap, repositioning himself. The year and a half since the war has softened him considerably, but Felix is still made of sharp angles, both inside and out. His elbow digs into Dimitri’s stomach as he resettles himself, but Felix finally stops moving once he’s sitting sideways in Dimitri’s lap. His legs are off to the side, tucked under the still-warm blankets. Dimitri’s arms are securely around his waist, and Felix has his head pillowed on Dimitri’s chest.

“It was just a dream,” Felix says, half to himself.

Dimitri kisses the top of Felix’s head. He’s not shaking anymore, which is a relief.

“It was,” Felix shakes his head. “It was selfish.” He stops talking and turns his face towards Dimitri’s chest. Felix doesn’t like eye contact, doesn’t even like people seeing his face half the time. Dimitri tightens his arms around Felix, trying to convey that he’s here, that he’s not going to go anywhere Felix can’t follow ever again.

Felix inhales. “It was about Duscur,” he says, slowly and deliberately.

This is not unusual. They both dream of Duscur often.

“It was as I always imagine it,” Felix says. “The fire, the bodies… even the smell.”

“What was different?” Dimitri asks.

Felix is quiet for a long time. When he answers, his voice is scraped raw. Felix still sounds the exact same when he’s about to cry as he did at age seven. Some things never change after all. “Glenn came back,” Felix whispers, his voice almost inaudible. “But you didn’t.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says. “Felix, I-”

“Don’t,” Felix snaps. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.”

Dimitri takes one of Felix’s hands in his own and squeezes it, then brings it to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “I love you,” he says.

Felix’s breath hitches, “Dimitri…”

Dimitri squeezes Felix’s hand again and then lets go, returning his hand to its spot on Felix’s waist. Felix sighs. “When they told us Glenn was dead,” he says quietly. “I was glad it wasn’t you.”

Dimitri’s breath catches. He doesn’t know what to do with this devotion Felix lays down at his feet. He doesn’t think he’s earned it, doesn’t think anyone ever could. “Oh,” he says.

“I thought I was going to be sick over it,” Felix says. “My brother was dead, and all I could think of was how relieved I was to know that you still lived.”

There isn’t anything Dimitri can say to that. There never will be. “I love you,” he repeats again, uselessly.

Felix laughs, but it sounds like he’s choking on it. “I know,” he says. “I know.”

“After Duscur,” Dimitri says, haltingly, “I missed Glenn and my father, of course. I felt as if a part of me was… broken, after that. Like I could never be whole again. But…” He sighs. “Here I am. I’m happier now than I ever thought I could be.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Felix says. “Of course I’m glad you’re alive. But I-”

“You can be happy that I’m alive,” Dimitri interjects, “while also missing Glenn. They can coexist.”

Felix attempts to laugh again, and sounds no less like he’s choking on it. “I-” He cuts off, the beginnings of a sob forcing its way out of his throat. “Fuck.”

It’s been years since Dimitri’s seen Felix cry. As a boy, the slightest thing would set Felix off, but after Glenn’s funeral it was as if all of Felix’s tears had died with his brother. Clearly, though, that is not the case.

The first sob comes out mutilated, but there are plenty more to follow it. Felix makes a terrible, gut-wrenching noise and buries his face in Dimitri’s shirt. “Oh, Felix,” Dimitri says quietly, stroking Felix’s hair as he sobs into his chest. Dimitri isn’t sure how long they sit like that, but it’s a long time. He wonders if Felix even knows what he’s crying for anymore, if it’s over his nightmare or Glenn or Rodrigue or a culmination of everything that has happened in the ten and a half years since Glenn’s funeral.

Felix’s sobs finally start to slow, and Dimitri winds a hand into Felix’s hair, holding him close to his chest. “You’re not betraying his memory,” He says. “Or your father’s.” Dimitri frowns. Sometimes he still thinks he can see Glenn out of the corner of his eye. He thinks that will be true for the rest of his life. “I think… I think they would want us to be happy, all of them.”

Felix lifts his head off of Dimitri’s chest. His face is red and splotchy and streaked with tears, and his voice comes out raw. “You don’t believe that.”

Dimitri wipes the tear tracks off of Felix’s face. “I’m trying to.”

Felix stretches upwards to kiss Dimitri. He tastes a little like salt from all the tears, but there are far worse things. “I don’t care what Glenn would want,” Felix says.

Dimitri extracts his hand from Felix’s hair, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. “What do you want?”

Felix turns before Dimitri can withdraw his hand and drops a kiss on the palm of his hand. “A new sword,” he says. “Dreamless nights. You.”

Dimitri presses their foreheads together. Felix exhales, reaching up to cup Dimitri’s face in his hand. “That can be arranged,” he says.

Felix kisses him again, slow and unhurried. They’ll regret being up so long in the morning, but in this moment Dimitri could care less about the morning. His whole world has narrowed to Felix: Felix in his lap, in his arms, Felix’s lips on his and Felix’s tongue in his mouth.

When they break apart, Felix’s lips are red, and Dimitri wants nothing more than to lay Felix down on their bed and kiss him until he comes completely undone. It’s late, though, and Felix’s eyes are still red and puffy from crying.

“Go back to sleep,” Dimitri says, pulling Felix as close to him as he can. “You’ll feel better with rest.”

Felix doesn’t reply, but he lets Dimitri maneuver him until they’re both laying on their sides, Felix’s back pressed up to Dimitri’s chest. They don’t often sleep like this - Dimitri is a restless sleeper - but tonight is different. Tonight, Felix needs to be held. Dimitri settles an arm over Felix’s waist, and Felix laces his fingers through Dimitri’s. It’s sickeningly sweet from Felix, who has to be coaxed into outward expressions of affection most days. 

Felix makes a soft noise, almost a hum really, that sounds like something approaching contentment. “I’ve never had a good dream, you know,” he says. He still sounds miserable, but a little less so.

Dimitri buries his face in the crown of Felix’s head. He smells like Ingrid’s lavender shampoo and a little bit like the mineral oil he uses to clean his swords. “Never?” he asks into Felix’s hair. “That seems unlikely.”

“Never,” Felix repeats.

Dimitri hums and squeezes Felix’s hand. Immediately, Felix squeezes his hand back, and Dimitri smiles, glad that Felix can’t see his expression. “We’ll have to work on it.”

“How are you going to help me have good dreams?”

Dimitri runs his thumb over the back of Felix’s hand. “We’ll only speak of happy things before bed.” He rests his chin on the top of Felix’s head. “I will make sure you’re in a good mood before we go to sleep.”

Felix snorts, “If you say so.”

“I do,” Dimitri says. “You’ll have a good dream, and I will be there to hear of it in the morning.”

Felix doesn’t reply. A breeze stirs the curtains, and Felix presses a little closer to Dimitri.

“Dimitri?” Felix’s voice cracks. “Don’t leave.”

Dimitri tightens his hold on Felix and drapes one of his legs over Felix’s. “I won’t,” he says. “I swear it.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @edelgardlesbians and on twitter @edelgardlesbian


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